Promise Broken Coyote Two

By Tammy Godfrey

The conclusion of Promises Kept, Abilene is being held hostage in her own pack but with promise kept some need to be broken. Will Nathan be there in time to save Abilene and her pack from his daughter Rain breaking her promise. Abilene regret Nathan and Storm breaking their promise?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warrioress Publishing
• Release date: Mar 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9798868991974

Book preview

Prologue

In that one kiss, Nathan had unleashed a part of her she’d held in the strictest restraint. Perhaps, a position she’d never realized existed. She had known men, but none like him. Even her Silver Shadow Pack, her precious Silver Shadow Coyote Pack, in which she held such a deep affection, did not discover this fragile part of her being that until now had been safely tucked away so deeply inside of her.

She returned home to get her people only to find herself married to a man she didn’t love. Then Nathan, the man she wanted and will never have. Since he knew that she would die in the house where Richard was holding her. The only thing that kept her going was knowing that her girls were safe, and that Nathan would keep his promise and protect her girls.

One kiss had changed everything for him the man of honor who always kept his promises broke them for the woman he wanted more than anything. He took a small group of people to rescue her. Putting her daughter in arms way because she would not stay put when she found out her mother was in danger. He left his pack and headed to California in an attempt to get her back.

Yet, she was fated to be here. She’d fought too hard for the right to be here, and she had to see this through till the end. Her choices were few, if they existed at all. This place was all she’d ever known. She ran her hand along the cold surface of her lavishly carved dressing table and thought about all the things she’d come back to accomplish. This wasn’t about her. This was about her pack. Maybe, she wasn’t the best leader, but she was sure as hell the better option than the man competing for control of them. If it were only herself, she sought to save. She could have the luxury of considering what she wanted and where her life was going. Things didn’t work that way though, not for her, not ever. She’d always been pushed by duty and by the things that she had to do as a significance.

There was always free will. Not even circumstance could truly take that away. Her free will had brought her back to this place and taken away all her choices until they were narrowed down to only one. That decision brought her here, to this point. She had no other options but to complete her journey and follow it wherever it led.

Her thoughts were distracted by the resounding bong of the doorbell echoing through the empty hallways and rooms of this sight of the house. She stood, taking her time. People in control did not rush to answer doors. They got to them when they got to them. She smoothed down the soft wool of her skirt and pulled on the blazer. Casually, checking for loose bits of lint before she took the first step toward the door.

Any small imperfection in her appearance, dress, or manner, would be seen as weakness.

That too, was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She tucked a wisp of stray hair into place and gathered her wits. Faking a confidence, she didn’t feel, she walked to answer the door her steps unhurried, almost leisurely, as if she were still in control of her life.

Chapter One

Abilene spent the night searching the room for a weapon she could use to defend herself. She had nothing. Curtains. Bedding. Her clothes. Nothing sharp. Nothing deadly except for the coyote that howled in her mind and scratched at the door, begging to get free. Her Coyote would only make matters worse. She had to keep it in control. Her coyote would rip the room to shreds and maybe take out a couple of guards, but that was all she would accomplish. Richard still had the firepower and the upper hand. He’d shoot her, wound her, and then she’d be even more defenseless than she already was.

The thought of Richard putting his hands on her thoroughly nauseated her. One injection had been enough to waken the powerful pull of hormones inside her body. What would two or three do? She’d be fertile and in full-blown heat, ready and eager to breed.

Usually, female coyotes only experience the uncontrollable need to further their species once, maybe, twice in a lifetime. Once at the onset of her shifts and then again right before menopause. Though sometimes a third occasion and rarely, a fourth, would be thrown in just for fun. Females had cycles and were fertile in between these times of heat. But, when the time of the heat came on them, nature took control of their bodies, and they were powerless against the hormonal surge. Not giving in to nature was painful, agonizing torture. A woman could only do one thing when the heat took her. Give in to it and scratch the itch.

Damn him, Abilene wiped a line of sweat off her brow. The first symptoms were already setting in. Her emotions were edgy and raw. Beads of sweat beaded on her skin. Her breasts were swollen, tender, and painful. As the symptoms progressed, she’d become more on edge. Her emotions would go haywire, and she’d barely be able to hold a thought in her head, except for one preoccupation, breeding. Her body would start to send out chemical signals, damned pheromones that every male within range would scent. The males were just as helpless to the heat as she. They’d come running and panting after her, and she’d pick the strongest male as her mate and do as nature intended.

The heat was a dangerous time for everyone. Jealous women fought with husbands drawn to the scent of another woman’s heat. Men fought to the death for breeding rights to the female who was no longer married. If two females were in the heat simultaneously, they battled one another for rights to a male.

The heat could tear the pack to shreds. Unmated females fled during this time to remote locations until the hormone storm ended. Mated couples locked their doors tightly against intruders and got down to business until the female was well and fully sated and the heat had passed. Unmated males had to be watched carefully, sometimes even confined to prevent an unwanted union. Over the centuries, females of the pack had learned how to ease the symptoms. Herbs and elixirs quieted the instinct and dulled the agony, to a degree. Modern medicine sometimes delayed the heat. But nothing was a guarantee except for the fact that the heat would come.

Richard wasn’t going to be that merciful. He wanted her to suffer. He wanted her fertile so that he could pump his demon seed into her. Her time was not yet upon her. She was close to the end of her cycle and almost looked forward to her final heat. He’d forced nature to turn ahead the clock by years.

Bile rose up from her stomach and burned the back of her throat. Richard would do what he planned. He’d put his hands on her. She wouldn’t put up a fight. Shame boiled in her gut with the rumbling acid. She’d actually welcome him inside of her body to do his business. She’d want him inside of her. Under normal circumstances, she had maybe a week before the heat reached its full potential. With the drugs, who knew how long she had before she lost control.

Tom fumbled in the darkness, sweating and panting against his panic-riddled brain. His father intended to kill him. He’d always known it would happen, but now that it actually was going to, he was in shock. His feet shuffled over the rough concrete floor. He was blind from the blackness consuming him whole and could not even see his hand as he waved it in front of his eyes. Not even the faintest of light drifted in from beneath the door. It was almost as if the light were afraid of his father and would not dare to enter the cell.

He ran his fingertips along the razor-sharp edge of the wire encircling his throat and jerked his hand back quickly as his fingers bled from the self-inflicted cuts. If he could work the wire loose, he’d have one less thing to worry about. His coyote was agitated, pacing in his mind. The urge to shift was so strong Tom was in agony from the toll it took on his body to hold the coyote back. The wire had been twisted tightly into a knot at the base of his throat. It’d been secured so snugly there was no way to work it free without cutting his fingers to ribbons. Structure that could spell the destruction of his people.

He had to do something. Eventually, he was going to lose his hold over his coyote. Maybe, that’d be a good thing. Maybe, he should just let go and end it. Better a death by his design than the one his father had planned out for him. The inky darkness, the stink of dank rot, and the four walls closing in on him were already starting to get to him. Did he really want to die? No. He had something worth living for, a golden-haired angel with highlights of fire woven through the halo around her head.

Tom pulled off his shoes and yanked the socks off his feet. Tugging them over his hands to protect his fingers from the sharp wire, he worked at the knot with fevered twists of his fingertips. The wire bit through the socks and made a jagged mess of his fingertips, but he managed to finally work the knot free. Relieved of the wire, he breathed deeply and trapped the breath in his lungs. He had a weapon. The wire could sever flesh from bone, and what had been intended to end his life might actually save it.

He’d stuck out his neck and had managed to accomplish absolutely nothing. Abilene wasn’t any safer. Pack was still in danger. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He had stood up to the old man. The cold, maniacal bastard should be thrilled about that. After all, he’d gotten what he’d always wanted, and his son had grown a set of balls.

Tom needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off of the desperate situation that he was hip-deep in the middle of. He needed something pleasant and happy to think about before his father came to execute him. Tom was still alive, and the only thing he had was his hope to keep him that way. His mind wandered back to the salty ocean and the warm beaches of Corpus Christi. To a time, not so long ago, before he was the man he became.

Her hair had gleamed like fire and sun. The golden windswept tendrils blown about in the breeze, and those incredible streaks of red were more brilliant than any California sunset. She smelled like coconuts, sunshine, and warm summertime sweat as the rays of the sun beat down on her pale milky skin. Her smile had drawn him in. The wide-open smile she cast him when she caught him unabashedly staring at her. She wasn’t embarrassed by his openness. In fact, she’d called it ‘refreshing’.

He had spent the day following her across the beach and around the town like a lost puppy until he worked up the guts to finally talk to her. They shared a few dances and a bottle or two of wine. Then they’d ended up at the beach beneath the stars. The waves of the ocean crashing against the shore marked time to the beating of their hearts. Young and dumb, he’d asked her up to his room. She’d shot him that smile, that incredible, spellbinding, once in a lifetime smile of hers and said ‘yes’.

It was only one night, and he’d deceived himself into believing that she was just another conquest in the long row of notches in his belt. But she’d been something more than that. He’d known it from the first time he saw her. The lie he told himself was easier to believe. Waking up in the pale light of morning alone he realized she’d gone back to her life and had left him to continue on with his. The only thing he had from that one night was the locket she’d forgotten on his nightstand.

He’d always wondered if his carelessness had resulted in a child. One day, he’d finally managed to track her down, determined to find out. The little girl wasn’t but two years old, bursting with energy and kicking her sandaled feet in the stroller. She had her mother’s curly hair and big, round eyes so filled with enthusiasm and anticipation for what life had to offer. Her hair was the crimson of a rose. Shining in the sunlight, threaded through with the strands of gold she’d inherited from her mother.

Tom’s heart had stopped beating as the little girl looked up at him and he met the eyes, so much like his in shade and shape, and so filled with a knowledge and wisdom far beyond a toddler’s comprehension. The realization slammed his heart with the force of a wrecking ball, crushing it to dust. He was staring at his daughter. He didn’t need the mother to confirm the truth. Deep down inside, he knew.

As much as it hurt, the painful ache of knowing, he could not approach his only child. By that time, his father was on his trail. Effectively following behind him to clean up what he considered his son’s mistakes. He could never breathe a word of the truth to anyone. He’d never know his daughter’s name. Distracted by the crowd flooding the bustling streets of Washington D.C. at rush hour, Lisa hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten to her or their daughter. Tom snuck up and quickly clipped a curl from his daughter’s hair and just as quickly disappeared into the throng of people.

Leaving her to raise the child alone was the kindest cruelty he could have done. It had taken him two years to find her. Washington D.C. was a busy place, Packed with people. The anonymousness of the crowd was the only hope he had of keeping Lisa and their baby girl safe. He’d lost two children to his father, a boy and a girl, and he would not lose his last hope, his only living child, to that bastard of a man.

He booked a flight to California and tried to forget, but he couldn’t. The locket and the crimson curl kept reminding him of the life he might have lived instead. Maybe Lisa was out there living her life to the fullest. He hoped so. She deserved so much better than what he’d given her. His baby girl would be on the verge of becoming a teenager by now. The thought of what she was like brought a smile to his face. She’d be a spitfire, like her mother, so full of joy and unbridled enthusiasm. Of that, he had no doubt. The thought of what she might have inherited from him made his blood run cold. He prayed to any god who would listen that the legacy of his coyote had passed her by.

Perhaps, Lisa was married with a husband and children of her own. He hoped she was happy, wherever she was and that whatever had happened to her had been nothing but good. Maybe, his baby girl had brothers and sisters, a whole houseful of them to love and keep her company. They deserved the life he’d never had and the future he’d never get: the white picket fence, the swing set in the backyard, burgers on the grill on Memorial Day, tons of presents under the tree at Christmas time, and the birthdays…the gifts with pretty bows and sparkly paper, the cakes with colorful icing roses and tons of candles, and the celebration of another year alive and happy, safe on this earth.

Tom did not deceive himself with much hope that he’d get out of this alive. The only consolation prize that he had was that his father might not either. Abilene…he couldn’t conceive a world without Abilene Beard in it. Unfortunately, her odds weren’t any better at walking out of this in one piece than his. But maybe if he did by some miracle of fate, manage to live through the destruction. He’d take the time, no, make the time to find Lisa again and see for himself what had become of her and their beautiful baby girl.

Just thinking about Lisa and the daughter they’d brought into this world made him feel better. Knowing that something he had touched had not turned to shit beneath his fingertips filled him with a slight glimmer of warm hope. He should not entertain the thought of finding them again. Indeed, Lisa had moved on by now and she and the child were both far better for not having him in their lives. It might be better for everyone if the mystery of whatever happened to Lisa Grey was never solved. But, if his daughter had inherited his gift, she’d need him soon. Even if she hadn’t, he really couldn’t let the past go.

Chapter Two

Michelle’s hands shook nervously as she poured a cup of steaming coffee from the silver coffee service. Richard stared down at her disdainfully. Rage brewed in his onyx-colored eyes. They were as cold and complex as the stone they resembled, and they never left her as she uncovered his breakfast.

He never varied from the menu. He